


Help Me Forget

by orphan_account



Category: Ebon Light (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Mutual Pining, Shameless Smut, rip dignity, wow someone help me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 13:22:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21494986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Typical smut, playing around a bit with the idea of Haron & Ernol’s half-harpy genes. Haron’s secondary thoughts aren’t in relation to the Cunthintal at all—just some good ’old animal instincts. Seemed fun since the harpies in EB are fairly intelligent and potentially have something of a society.
Relationships: Alenca Goffil | Main Character/Haron Milirose
Comments: 5
Kudos: 76





	Help Me Forget

Somehow, Haron had convinced both Alenca and Duliae that his father’s estate would be safer than her old room. Mietwen and Ecarae both had already paid an unwelcomed visit. The decision to move certainly hadn’t hurt so far, at least. She had been living with this branch of the Milirose family for a little over a week; in her own chambers, much Haron’s disappointment. She’d had to explain that even if she felt for him, there was too much going on for her to get caught up in a courtship… for the time being.

Civil war began to consume different levels of The Forces, and things were progressing ever-quicker since Alenca’s return. It had been everyone’s surprise that the first pegs knocked lose had originated at the top. Funny how backwards things had been recently. For Alenca, it felt as though her life was trying to outpace her at every turn, and the voice of Cuthintal was both a dead-weight and a buoy at once. Sometimes helping, other times more of a hindrance than all of these other obstacles combined. At least she hadn’t gone mad, yet.

So, here she was, in the parlour of her guest room deep in the mansion, reading over the letter Ernol had brought her earlier that night after his visit to Duliae’s estate. He had stayed to talk with her about it briefly, but in the end had left the conversation to attend to his mother and allow Alenca some quiet to consider her options. Gawloyes had arrived at Duliae’s home to press her into assistance much the way Mietwen had attempted, and it would likely be necessary for Alenca to side with one or the other. There was little time for proper reflection.

When Haron returned home hours later—life hadn’t stopped despite the collapse of government office—he found Alenca alone in the candle-light side room of her quarters. Upon reading the letter himself when she shows it to him, it’s possible that he’s even more frustrated with the predicament then she is.

But she doesn’t want to think on it anymore tonight—she believes she already has an answer, and would simply prefer to rest and act once the morning comes calling again. It _is_ very late. The frustration is something Alenca can distract Haron from easily, too. At her simple request, he’s readily taking a seat next to her on the sofa, wrapping an arm around her waist so he can pull her to his side while he tells her about the silly plans of officials and merchants and all the other pompous elves in Gha’alia.

Normally she wouldn’t allow his touch to linger very long—something about it not being fair to keep changing what boundaries they had—but Haron isn’t surprised her for wanting some physical reassurance that things will go favourably. He _is_ surprised when she asks him to kiss her.

Well, why shouldn’t he? And why shouldn’t _she_ have whatever she wants; far be it from him to refuse any requests from his _Madralee_. The moment feels natural, and with all the danger about them recently, a very appropriate time for their first kiss. It would be safe, unhurried. Leaning over and gently cupping her nape in his cool palm, he presses his lips longingly against hers.

He wants the kiss to be comforting for her; show her he’s reliable if not laughably eager, and to somehow convey that he’s able to take care of her. Not just as a guest in the home, but as his lover, whenever she would have him. Truly, even if she holds him at a distance, he already _is_ her lover, isn’t he? He loves her, she knows it, she’s accepting this… His tongue runs across her lower lip, tasting the kiss and sliding into her mouth to taste _her_ when she lets out a silent gasp.

Alenca lets herself be guided over his lap, lifting herself over his legs so that she’s sitting on his other side now, thighs draped across him and able to press her chest against his, held there by the strong arms wrapped around her waist. The kiss is slow, open-mouthed and insistent without being demanding. He wants her but is not expecting—taking what she’ll offer but nothing more. The control he allows her to keep sets her at ease, and she eventually pulls away after a few hot minutes letting him help her forget everything.

They are still close; his breath tickles her cheeks and she blushes under his heavy-lidded stare at the realization that _they had been kissing._ It had happened so easily, without the awkward clicking of teeth or misplacement of noses that… it was really as though they had shared far more kisses than just this first.

Haron sighed, hold her wait shifting to he was able to use his thumb and trace small circles over her hip while carding the fingers of his other hand through the soft hair at the nape of her neck. His focus flickered between her eyes and lips, hazy with content until she shocked him again with a second kiss that left him melting into her.

It was harder to control his want now. His feelings for her both pushed him to do more and fretted over possibly upsetting her if he tried. She had teased him into exploring her mouth with his tongue, slipping hers against his and withdrawing until he’d understood the invitation and carefully angled her head to deepen the kiss.

The position must have put her at an uncomfortable twist, before she allowed herself to lean back into the sofa, pulling him down on top of her and making him burn under his clothes to consider the provocativeness of how they rested. His head was spinning to have his shining light, beneath him and _pleased_ while he kissed her. Though he held most of his weight on the forearm beside her head—he’d kept the other on her hip, of course—he groaned when she lifted one knee and made him settle his hips against her. His fingers at her waist danced under the hem of her shirt, sliding along the bottom of her ribs. When she shivered he felt it, swelling eagerly in his pants and utterly enthralled with her reactions.

_Bewnan,_ she was going to be the end of him. He knew he should pull away now—this was starting to become too arousing, too hard to stay focused—but she’d never accepted him like this before. Surely she could feel his arousal? The thought of pulling away from her and having to _wait_ for this to happen again…

And she was happy, dammit, or at least very well distracted liked she’d wanted to be. _Relaxed._ He’d done that for her. She was here with him, taking her comfort from _him_ instead of someone else. A shot of possessiveness curled in his gut, and he groaned again, running his lips over her jaw and down her neck to nibble at the pulse there. He’d love to leave a mark, let everyone see what they’ve done together, prove to them this is something beautiful and powerful and _real_ between them. That it wasn’t just in his head.

He felt her nails digging into his shoulders as she gripped him, her body arching into his as a breathless noise of appreciation escaped her at his ministrations. He pushed back himself, with his hand, with his hips, letting her movement rub her against him deliciously. His teeth scraped against her skin and his thoughts bleed into a thrumming need to continue.

To his vague disappointment, Alenca conformed and sank into the cushions without any resistance. He had wanted her to do it again—wanted to stop her again. Still, he was kept from worrying he’d overstepped by the kisses she pressed along his jaw and the way she kept him against her with her grip in his vest. Could they do more…?

_“_The things you do to me…” he whispered, sliding his hand out from under her shirt only to brush his palm up her side and settle over her breast, cupping it gently. The breathy moan he got in response was enough encouragement to continue. “Move again, _Madralee_. I want you.”

She did. Kissing him once again, Alenca shifted her hips against his, moaning quietly into his mouth and setting his nerves on fire. He answered instinctually, forcing her down once again, and then again, and again and again and they were rocking against one another without any memory that things had ever been different. The buttons of her top carefully undone so he could kneed the soft flesh of her chest and roll it in his palm.

_“Please…Haron…”_

When another shift in position occurred—Alenca had squirmed so much that her other leg was now free to be wrapped around Haron’s waist—the situation began to have a new intensity to it. It had felt good before. It felt necessary now. Haron suddenly feared that even though _she_ was the one holding him against her… her core, like this, that she would stop. That the moment would end, and he would have to leave the room pretending he hadn’t almost fucked her tonight. That she hadn’t begged for him. Hadn’t _excited_ him like this, pressed against him between her legs and moved the way she was moving.

“You never have to beg me, Alenca,” he murmured, eyes locked on her flushed expression as she panted and he pulled away just enough to push up her skits. They pooled at her waist, it seemed as though she was indeed on the same mental page as him because she lifted herself up when he slid her undergarments off. _Soaked._

Her gaze needled him as he started at the apex of her thighs, first on his face and then to the tented fabric of his dresspants. Awed at the arousal she had—not for another, but him!—Haron only teased her a moment longer. Dipping a slender finger through the slick of her folds, he slid the digit into her easily, pressing his thumb against the sensitive nerves above her entrance. The wet heat sending his mind directly into the fantasy of the next moment, his member _throbbing_ when he would…

_…take. Take what he’d worked for, who’d danced around him so long. Quickly._ A voice started up in the back of his head; his own and yet not.

She whimpered for him, nearly causing his other hand to fumble as he hastily unzipped himself.

_She’s calling for you, why are you keeping her waiting!? Provide!_

Taking his hand away from her, he sucked her juices greedily from his fingers before pressing the tip to her entrance, dragging the head up and down a few times to collect enough lubrication not to hurt her.

_Start inside. Start now. T h e r e ’ s n o t i m e. _

She was a babbling mess, misty-eyed and more ready than he would have ever hoped for. When she reached for him he caught her hand, twinned his fingers between hers and lowered himself back over her as he pushed himself inside. Relief bloomed on the edges of everything he was feeling, though he was too distracted to notice. He was inside. It could not be undone now. Not be forgotten. The thoughts seemed to back off, a little. Assuaged.

Though his lover was blissfully prepared—perhaps even painfully so—Haron was not. He had intended to be still for a moment, allow his human to adjust, but the tight clench of her dripping heat had him cursing. Neither was Alenca seeming to _want_ time to adjust to his penetration, given the way she was tugging at him. She worked his member with small, needy thrusts, eyes shut tight and mouth open just slightly to draw in breath.

Throwing away the last of his apparently unwelcome restraint, Haron pressed himself further into her, holding her down firmly. Feeling her clench on his shaft and sent this liquid fire pooling in his hips, traveling up his spine, resting in his shoulders. His heart beat wildly in his chest, hardly believing how this was _real._

Her walls were velvet, too much and not enough all at once, and it occurred to Haron suddenly that this was not at all something they had thought through. In fact, if he were to… Alenca could…

_Fruits of your union,_ objected the voice. _She chose you! Chose you, chose you. Provide her!_

Fuck! That was not what she wanted, he knew it, but she held herself so tightly to him he could almost think she did. She moved so deliberately, so perfectly, never allowing him to slip from her.

_Doesn’t she…?_ His voice asked him. Confused, upset, but still disbelieving. They kept going.

“_Atashan,_” he gasped, knowing that the end was very nearly with them. His hips worked against her, beyond what he was controlling, pushing himself inside again and again as she was lost to him in all that he gave her.

He felt it when she came, walls crushing around him and nearly milking his own release. He hardly believed that he managed to pull out in time, though it was _much_ too close of a call. She’d sobbed, eyes flying open as she was left empty until he hastily stuffed three his fingers into her, giving her body something to ease the need to be _full._ He spent on what parts of her skirt had been beneath her, as he watched and felt her shudder, though his own orgasm nearly blinded him from its potency.

The recess of his thoughts poured scathing, wordless disapproval at his choice. Yet that wasn’t important—the relief and appeased satisfaction on his Madralee’s face when she opened her eyes was _everything_.

He’d done well by her.

Lovingly, he pressed a tender kiss to the corner of her mouth, then to her forehead. His gaze flickered to the door they hadn’t locked, but it was closed and the wood was quite thick. Besides, if someone were to _know_ just how properly he could ravish her… well, he didn’t mind.

Alenca tugged her dress back into a position that was only mildly scandalous as she watched him readjust his pants. Speaking first once they’d tidied themselves, she pulled her elf against to brush her lips against his, both once again seated together on the couch.

“You’re wonderful, Haron. I must be the luckiest fool on all the island.”

The elf laughed softly, arms capturing her in a gentle embrace as he basked in her affection. “No, my light…it's certainly me."

He could die happily if she would only treat him like this forever.

**Author's Note:**

> …well, we seriously just went there, ahaha… now I just have to make sure no one from my real life ever finds out what kind of sin I put on the internet X’D


End file.
